


The Sweetness of Rust

by Eavenne



Series: The Girls Left Behind [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Assassination, Brother-Sister Relationships, Civil War, Confrontations, Dark Past, Death, Fights, Gen, Murder, Orphanage, Orphans, Rain, Revenge, Revolution, Siblings, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eavenne/pseuds/Eavenne
Summary: Natalya thought she'd left her past behind her.A storm was battering the walls of the orphanage on the night that Gilbert Beilschmidt came for her life.
Relationships: Belarus & Liechtenstein (Hetalia), Belarus & Prussia (Hetalia), Belarus & Russia & Ukraine (Hetalia), Belarus & Russia (Hetalia), Belarus & Ukraine (Hetalia)
Series: The Girls Left Behind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103045
Kudos: 2





	The Sweetness of Rust

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Human AU. 
> 
> Natalya = Belarus  
> Ivan = Russia  
> Ludwig = Germany  
> Gilbert = Prussia  
> Tolys = Lithuania  
> Eduard = Estonia  
> Iryna = Ukraine  
> Erika = Liechtenstein
> 
> This fic happens after Winter Sorrows, which precedes it in this series. You can read this without having read that. You won't miss out on anything. This does spoil the end of that fic, though, so if you like Liechtenstein and want to read something about her, consider checking it out. Enjoy!

Outside the window, the storm spun wildly in the tattered night sky.

The little boy’s cheek was soft under Natalya’s fingers. His eyes were red and puffy; his small shoulders trembled as he took a shuddering breath.

With a swipe of her thumb, she wiped his tears away. “You’re safe here,” she whispered. “I’m here for you.” A sudden flash of lightning slapped the boy’s pale face; he whimpered, and shrank into his blankets as the thunder roared. Natalya’s chest felt tight. The memory of her brother’s eyes bored into her. _He was like you_ , she thought. _He was afraid of everything…and then he was afraid of nothing_. She bent, and kissed the crown of the boy’s head. “When you wake up tomorrow, the storm will be gone.” _I won’t let you become Ivan. I promise._

The door closed quietly behind her. An icy gust of wind whistled through the deserted corridor; even the flame of the candle lamp in her hands seemed to shiver. Natalya turned to look at the window that was bringing the chill in. In the darkness of the orphanage, that window seemed to open to further darkness, to gape forth as the maw of Hell itself. She swallowed. How many times had she stared into that pit, only to meet her own eyes?

The rain pounded on her outstretched arm. _It was raining just as heavily that day._ She remembered how the water had mixed with her brother’s blood, how it had pooled in the mud and soaked the scarf that she’d knitted for him. _He was dying before I could turn my head._ The rainwater spilled from her cupped hands. _He wouldn’t stop bleeding_. She’d pressed her entire weight against his neck, but his life had seeped out from the gaps between her fingers.

She gazed into the darkness. Five years had passed, but sometimes it was like she was back there again, screaming her brother’s name, crying for help, cursing the man who had killed him. Her whole world had shattered. For months, she’d done nothing but chase his killer across the land. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept. And then, defeated, she’d put the broken pieces of herself back together, his last words echoing in her ears –

Natalya’s heart skipped a beat.

_There’s someone behind me._

She threw herself to the floor moments before the sword pierced her skin.

The man’s looming shadow expanded when he straightened up, throwing Natalya’s entire world into darkness. His eyes glittered in the night as he surged towards her, his black cloak billowing in the storm. Experience seized hold of her body; she flung the lamp at him and rolled out of the way of his blade. _I won’t die today_ , she thought as she leapt clear of his reach, the clang of metal against metal ringing in her ears. _I can’t die. Not now. Not anymore._

She raised her head, and drew a knife from her pocket.

_Not while my children need me to live._

* * *

_The girl yanked her dagger from the crown prince’s chest._

_Her next job was to escape without being discovered, but she stood there and watched as he fell to the ground with a loud thud, as life sputtered from his spasming body. In the end, it seemed, nobles bled red and not blue. She wondered why people lied about that. The man dying before her was like any other man who’d died before her. His face was squeezed and bunched up in shock, and his eyes were moving about like a cornered animal._

_She tilted her head._

_Would her brother smile when she told him what she’d done?_

_The distant sound of footsteps made her look up; she turned to leave, but something threw her off-balance and she stumbled, dropping her dagger. She looked back. It was the prince, his arm outstretched, his fingers curled around her ankle. The footsteps grew louder and someone yelled “Ludwig” and her heartbeat quickened; she stared at the whites of his eyes, her body trembling, and kicked his hand until he let her go._

_She was crouching on the window ledge when she heard the prince’s brother scream._

* * *

“It’s been a long time, Gilbert Beilschmidt,” said Natalya.

Gilbert stepped towards her. “Natalya Arlovskaya,” he said. The window behind him framed his head in darkness; lightning exploded outside, briefly throwing his body into silhouette. “Seems like you’ve still got some fight in you.” He bared his teeth in a grin, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s good. You don’t deserve to die without a struggle.”

She dropped into a lower stance, gripping her knife tightly. The children’s bedrooms were down the corridor; Natalya could feel their presence even through the howling wind and pelting rain. _I can’t let him get there_. She sucked in a breath. _I have to protect them. And I have to survive._

Perhaps she could reason with him. “Do you know where you are?” She gestured at their surroundings. “This is an orphanage. Not a place for bloodshed.”

Gilbert snorted. “An orphanage,” he said, “filled with children who lost their parents to the civil war that your brother started.” The grin slipped from his face. “Well, maybe it’s more correct to say that _you_ started it. Since _you_ were the one who killed my brother.”

They stared at each other. Gilbert’s voice had been steady, but there was something searching in his eyes. He shifted where he stood. “Well?” he said, pointing his sword at her, and Natalya suddenly realised that Gilbert wasn’t certain that she’d killed his brother. “Did you forget how to speak?”

 _I could lie to him_ , she thought. She could see the tension in his body; every muscle seemed to be pulled tight, ready to spring into action at the first word that left her lips. _I could convince him that he’s gotten the wrong person, I could make him leave, I could keep the children safe_. Outside, the storm bellowed on, battering at the walls. The occasional bolt of lightning flashed against Gilbert’s blade; illuminated the broad outline of his shoulders and cloak. Natalya’s heart hammered in her chest. _I can’t escape_. He would leave, track down and interrogate Tolys or Eduard or even her sister Iryna, and come back to kill her. _I can’t run from my past_. There was no washing the blood from her hands. _I have to tell the truth._

Natalya braced herself for the inevitable attack.

“You’re right. I killed – ”

Gilbert charged towards her, his eyes blazing, and her legs tensed as she prepared to jump towards the wall. Then she remembered the children sleeping behind her – _I can’t just get out of the way, I have to stay between him and them_ – and flung herself to the side, slashed at his back, and launched her entire body at him. _I have to stop him_ –

Natalya’s world spun; she cried out as she hit the ground. Then she took a ragged breath, looked up to see Gilbert’s sword inches from her face, and knocked it out of the way with her knife. Her wrist ached from the impact and her left shoulder throbbed from the fall but she ignored the pain, and dug a gash into his calf. Before she knew it, her back was on fire and she was tumbling down the hallway, scrabbling at the cold stone floor, gripping her knife with all of her strength. _He kicked me_ , she thought dimly as she scrambled to her feet. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. _It’s been too long since I last fought_. Spots danced before her eyes. _I’m out of practice._

Gilbert whirled around to face her. He staggered forward, his entire body shaking, his face contorted in anger. “You killed him,” he snarled. “You killed the kindest, most heroic man in this entire country.” He slammed the side of his fist against the wall. “Why do you think I stepped aside and let him be the crown prince?” Gilbert was shouting now, his voice echoing down the hallway; Natalya glanced behind her, desperately hoping that the children were still sound asleep. “Because he was different. Because he had it in him to change this fucking country for the better.” He laughed. It was a scratchy, broken noise; it sounded like it’d been wrenched from his throat. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? That’s what your brother said he was fighting for. A better, kinder place to live, where punishments were fair across classes and peasants weren’t taxed to death.”

A lash of lightning whipped the side of Gilbert’s face. He blinked rapidly. Natalya realised that he was trying not to cry.

“But you took care of that, didn’t you? You ended his legacy before it began. You destroyed the world that he could have created.” Gilbert’s lips parted in another grin; it split his face open, twisting his features. “Well? Was it worth it? I hope your brother at least hugged you for that. I hope he held you tight and praised you as the bodies piled higher and higher.”

Their eyes met.

“And I hope your whole world shattered when you turned around and saw that I’d killed him.”

Distantly, Natalya remembered the day she’d killed Ludwig. She remembered how they’d woken up that morning to the blows of large men who wanted to steal everything they owned. She remembered the tears in her sister’s eyes; remembered the fear in her voice as she’d pled with the men to please leave them alone. She remembered her brother throwing himself at the men to stop them from dragging her sister away. She remembered wondering if she could get away with killing the men in the capital city, in broad daylight. She remembered her sister running to one of Prince Ludwig’s servants and pulling on his sleeve, begging him to help them.

She remembered the disgust in his face; remembered the contempt in his voice when he called them street rats that should die in the gutter.

 _You shouldn’t have done that_ , her brother had said that night when she’d returned and told him what she’d done. _Prince Ludwig was royalty, which is as evil as being a noble, but he didn’t see what was happening to us. He might have become a friend if we asked. And we don’t kill friends._

Her eyes had widened. _So, you’re not happy that I killed him?_

 _No_. Her brother had run a hand through her tangled hair. _But you’ve done well. Tomorrow, things will change. We’ll use this moment and turn it into something greater._ He’d smiled. _We’ll create a world that loves us. We’ll rally all our friends and become stronger than the nobles who hate us. And then, sister, no one will hurt us ever again._

 _But you died_ , thought Natalya. A clap of thunder shook the hallway like an earthquake. _You stirred the people into a frenzy, you rose up till you became the leader of the rebels, and you died_. Her hands trembled. _You died because of me._

And then the sound of Gilbert’s footsteps hurled her back into reality. All at once he was in front of her; his blade sliced through the air and she dodged, but his other arm shot out, grabbed her right wrist and slammed it against the wall, pinning it there. Natalya took a sharp breath and saw him reverse his grip on his sword to plunge it into her. She grabbed his forearm to twist the blade away but he was so much larger than her, so much stronger, and she couldn’t hold him back forever; they were so close that she could feel his breath burning her cheek, feel his eyes boring into her soul. _I can’t lose_ , she thought. _I can’t lose, I can’t die, I have to win, I have to win_ –

She jerked her knee upwards, towards his crotch. Gilbert turned and took the blow with his hipbone instead; he growled and Natalya’s vision blurred as he hit her hard across the face with the pommel of his sword. As she reeled in pain, she felt his grip on her right forearm slacken, freeing her to slash at him with her knife. It sliced through flesh. She heard him hiss; he’d released her, so she stumbled away from him, backing towards the rooms where the children slept, trying to ignore the furious throbbing of her face.

Gilbert was still standing. He was breathing heavily and glaring at Natalya; she saw a thick line of blood snake its way down his left hand. _So, that’s what happened_ , she thought. _He caught my knife with that hand_. She tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, and swallowed. _I took a bad hit._

The sound of Gilbert’s laughter rang out over the pouring rain. “What is all this, anyway?” he exclaimed, waving his sword at their surroundings. “Do you really think playing at nurse will redeem you? I saw you. Fetching them toys, repairing their clothes, reading them stories of knights and princesses and filling their heads with pretty little things.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have you forgotten who you are? What you are? Those hands of yours are stained with the blood of all these orphans’ parents. Stained with the blood of my brother.” His expression darkened. “Your hands will never be clean.”

“I know,” said Natalya quietly. “But I’ve been given the chance to keep these children’s hands clean instead.” Her hand tightened on her knife. “After you killed my brother, I did everything I could to chase you down. I couldn’t reach you. I collapsed somewhere and laid there, waiting to die.” She looked up. “But I was saved. I was found. And – do you know why my brother really wanted? Do you know what he was fighting for?” Her eyes burned. “A world where everyone could be friends. A world where no one would hurt us and we wouldn’t have to go hungry. He wanted peace. A peace that he didn’t have, that we never had. Because we didn’t have a home, because we were orphans, because we had to fight to survive.”

Gilbert scoffed. “And? You’re trying to give these orphans the peace that your brother never had?”

“I want to give their childhood back to them. I want to help them find peace within themselves. I couldn’t save my brother, but I can save them. Just like I was saved. And that’s why I’m not letting you avenge your brother.” Natalya held her knife in front of her. “Once, I was willing to die if it helped my brother’s cause, if I could save my siblings from injury. But now I have people who need me. People who depend on me.” She raised her chin. “And I can’t allow myself to die.”

“Then prove it to me!” Gilbert sprang towards her, swinging his blade, and she flung herself to the left before it sliced her shoulder open. “Show me that you’ve changed!” Her scalp burned when he grabbed her hair and yanked her aside; she winced and tried to stab his arm, but he caught her hand and threw her to the ground with him. “Show me what you’re willing to do!” He sat on her knees, trapping her legs as she struggled beneath him. “Come on!” She pushed her torso upward with her elbows, craned her neck and sank her teeth into his lower lip; he cried out and smashed his forehead into hers, but his loosened grip let her twist her body free.

Natalya tried to roll Gilbert over, to straddle him and put her knife to his throat, but he sent her flying with one swing of his forearm. She got up, her head spinning, gasping for breath. Gilbert was already advancing towards her. “Prove that you’re not going to die tonight!” he shouted. Blood rolled down his chin as he spoke. “Show me that you’re going to live!” The storm screamed on outside, the rain pounding down in torrential fury. “Show me!”

Natalya glanced behind her. The door to one of the bedrooms was just to her right. Her eyes widened. _I can’t let him get any further. I have to stop him here. I have to push him back._

So, she raised her knife, stared straight at the dark figure before her, and ran –

The door creaked open.

“A-aunt Natalya?”

Natalya stopped in her tracks, and turned away from Gilbert to look at the little boy who was calling her name. It was the worst thing that she could have done in that moment. It was the most idiotic thing that she could have done in that moment.

But she wasn’t an assassin anymore; she was a mother, and she was saddled with a mother’s weaknesses.

When she regained her senses and turned back to Gilbert, she was met with an empty hallway. Her eyes darted about; she checked behind her, and saw no one. She swallowed.

_Did he decide to spare me after all?_

“Aunt Natalya?”

Natalya knelt, and met the boy’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I was – umm…” The boy hesitated, his gaze moving about her face. “Did someone hurt you? Your cheek…”

“A young bear came in just now, and I scared it off. It hit me, but it’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine.” She smiled. A few years ago, she’d never smiled, but now the expression came naturally to her face. “And why are you still up?”

“It’s…it’s the storm, it’s…” The boy’s eyes were red and puffy. “It’s so loud, and I can’t sleep…”

She ruffled his hair, placed a hand on his upper back and led him back to the bedroom. “The storm can’t reach you here,” she said softly, “because the roof over your head is keeping you dry. You can still hear it, and I know it’s scary. But there’s nothing that it can do to you. You’re safe. I promise.” _I’ll keep you safe, no matter what. I won’t let anyone hurt you any longer._

He watched her with bright eyes as she pulled the blankets to his chin. “Aunt Natalya?”

“Yes?”

“Aunt Erika always sings to me.” He touched her finger, and she responded by covering his hands with her own. _His hands are so small._ “Could you sing to me too? Just for a little while?”

Years and years ago, back when they had huddled together on freezing winter nights, Natalya’s sister had sung quietly to keep them warm.

“Of course,” she whispered. Bending down, she pressed a quick kiss to the boy’s forehead. “In a field of swaying sunflowers, I searched for you…”

The corridor was deserted when she left the room. It was just as dark as before, and the storm was still tearing its way through the night sky, but Gilbert was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if he’d never been there at all; as if he was only a spectre of her past, a figment of her imagination. But the lingering pain she felt in the places where he’d struck her attested to the reality of their encounter. _He was here. He really was here. And if he’s gone, that means –_

On the floor by the window, there laid a dagger.

It was the dagger that had started everything.

* * *

_The young woman’s eyes fluttered open._

_“Oh, you’re awake.” A soft, feminine voice floated into her ears; a small face moved into her view, swimming before her eyes. “How are you feeling?”_

_“I…” There was something blue dangling in the corner of her vision. She tried to reach out and touch it, but her arm was trapped by something heavy and soft. “I’m…alive?”_

_“You’re safe.” The person speaking to her sounded gentle; she gazed into a pair of large green eyes. “You’re at my orphanage. I found you lying unconscious nearby.” A hand touched her shoulder. “My name is Erika, and I’ve been taking care of you for the past week.”_

_“…Erika?” The world was becoming clearer. The young woman blinked, and realised that the blue thing she’d been staring at was a ribbon hanging from Erika’s blonde hair. “What…why?”_

_Erika tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”_

_“Why…save me?” The young woman’s throat felt dry. “My life is over. My brother…he’s dead. I fought for him. I killed for him. He’s gone, but I’m…still here.” The world blurred before her. “What…what do I do?”_

_The hand rubbed her shoulder. “Your life isn’t over,” said Erika quietly. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”_

_“But…”_

_Erika drew closer. “I lost my brother, too. He never made it back from that war seven years ago. But I’m still alive. I’m still alive because he took me in as a child, because he saved me from the winter.” She paused. “And I’m using the life that he gave me to save others like me. That’s why I started this orphanage. That’s my purpose.” A warm hand touched the young woman’s cheek. “You have to find yours.”_

_“How? I…I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve lost everything. I…”_

_“It will take time,” said Erika, “but you’ll find it. I promise.” Through a wobbling haze of tears, the young woman saw Erika smile. It was a gentle smile; it brightened up her soft, rounded features, and the young woman was suddenly reminded of her sister. It had been so long since she’d last seen Iryna. Where was she? What was she doing now? For the first time in years, the young woman longed to see her sister again, to let that warm voice fill the hole in her chest._

_“And in the meantime, you can help me take care of the children here. I could use some help.” Erika patted the young woman’s arm. “How does that sound?”_

_“I…” She remembered the fire in her brother’s eyes as he made his speeches; remembered the roar of the crowds as they cheered him on. He was an orphan. They were all orphans. All those years, he’d been fighting for those who had nothing; for those who were trampled by the nobles, whose heads were being stamped into the mud. And she’d been fighting for him. She’d been killing for him. Her sister, horrified by the bloodshed, had left them, saying that their movement meant nothing if it could only take lives and not save them. But she’d struggled on. She’d believed in her brother, and nothing else had mattered. He’d said that violent revolution was the best way to achieve his goals. And she’d fought by his side._

_But what if Iryna had been right all along?_

_A few minutes later, the door closed quietly behind Erika. The young woman gazed at the window to her right; watched the white curtains stir in the cool spring breeze. Ever since they’d found each other, she’d spent every day of her life following her brother. She’d killed. She’d destroyed. That was all she knew. Could she really find a purpose? Could she really start again?_

_In the silence of the room, her brother’s last words echoed in her ears._

_“I want you to be happy.”_


End file.
